Tuesday
has begun. When I went to sleep at about 21:30 last night
we had the wind on our bow and we were running in a short
chop. No where near as bad as the sleepless night of a few
days ago, but just enough to make it rough. We are below 11
degrees latitude, are these then the 'hobby horse latitudes'?
Nope.

Six
hours later at 3:30 am and we could be on the ICW. 4 knots
of wind and for the first time on this trip NORDHAVN can best
be described as gliding...this gallant gal is slicing ahead,
on course effortlessly. The white frothing foam chewed up
by our bow trails off astern, shining on top of the black
sea. Our wake carves out our path, we are a zipper opening
up the Caribbean Sea.

The
moon has just pulled her reflection off the smooth water ahead.
A shooting star just flamed out to the South of me, validating
my routine of patrolling the Portuguese bridge to scan the
horizon.

I
have one white light off my starboard side. It has moved from
my quarter to my beam in the last hour, but it does not show
on the radar. It is now two white lights, a big freighter,
and though I can't make out the red running light we must
be moving along in the same direction.

Now
a flash of lightning lights up the sky forward to port about
20 degrees off the bow. I'm lucky on the bridge tonight.Quiet
seas and still air...perhaps it's the calm before a storm.
Or just the night air charged up since it is 83 degrees F
outside.

Another
bridge patrol and this time I see a lightning flash as I am
looking through the binoculars - fantastic! Pure luck.